Page 44 of Cole: Bloodlines
Maddy started to drift again, letting his mind wander, hoping it would take him into unconsciousness. If there was gas in the air, maybe he would eventually fall asleep and not wake up. He didn’t want to be awake for the final scene of his life.
The thick metal door to the room swung open, loudly scraping across the floor, with rusted hinges shrieking in the darkness like demonic spirits. Maddy froze, his breath catching in his throat, holding it in until his lungs burned, and holding even then.
A faint light silhouetted the man against the doorway. Something about him felt different. Heavy footsteps thudded dull against the cold concrete as he neared the cage. Maddy closed his eyes, his breath trembling and catching slightly in his nostrils. He sensed the man’s eyes on him, like a predator measuring its prey before striking.
Sinking to his heels, the man flicked on a flashlight, illuminating a face Maddy hadn’t seen before. Though it looked different—his eyes remained the same, reflecting malevolence and insanity.
“I know you’re awake.” His voice was slightly deeper than the other man's, but it carried a familiar tone, as if they might be related. “I’m not leaving until you open your eyes.”
Maddy slowly opened his eyes and sat up, scooting to the back of the cage.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to fuck you,” he said with a slightly distasteful tone. “I don’t fuck boys… even cute ones like you.”
“Why… Why are you keeping me here?” Maddy whispered, his voice trembling from a mix of fear and the biting cold seeping into his bones.
“You serve a purpose. You’ve already contributed in ways you can’t begin to understand, and you will again. Quite soon, in fact.” He smiled in a way that reminded Maddy of a slasher movie killer. “I’m being rude, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Daniel. But the newspapers nicknamed meThe Mangler.” He shrugged. “You can call me either, your choice.”
The Mangler?
Daniel “The Mangler” squinted and smiled. “Are you wondering why they called me The Mangler?”
Maddy pressed his back against the cold bars of the cage, rust flakes scraping his chilled skin. He didn’t want to know.
“Some years back, I used to abduct young women. I took them to the cellar in my barn, where I raped and butchered them.” He smiled small. “Then fed their bodies to my pigs. Did you know pigs will eat an entire body, bones and all? Quite the efficient clean-up crew.”
Maddy felt the blood drain from his face.
“Don’t look so worried. I won’t be feeding you to any pigs. There aren’t any here. There is an incinerator in the basement, though. I’ll probably use that to dispose of your body. Nice and clean.” He chuckled as Maddy stared at him in horror. “I’m not going to kill you just yet. I still have use for you. And I did tell my son he could have you when I was finished. He’ll keep you alive for a while, though I suspect you’d rather face the incinerator than what he means to do to you. But who am I to say?”
Maddy’s mind was numb from the horrific images the man painted in his head. His bladder weakened, and he was sure he would piss himself if the man kept talking, spinning tales of terror.
The Mangler rose to his feet. “I’ll be back to see you real soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
When the man stepped out and shut the door, plunging the large, cold room into darkness again, Maddy slumped against the back of the cage and peed a little.
At leaststory timewas over.
For now.
CHAPTER 18: SUFFER THE CHILDREN
The deputy guided Colethrough the depths of the old machinery factory, a vast, decaying relic of industrial times with a mixture of rot, rust, and dampness thick in the musty air. Along the corridors, plaster crumbled off the walls, exposing brick and concrete beneath. They passed large rooms containing heavy machinery that, once essential, now stood silent and still, caked in rust and cobwebs, with twisted metal and debris scattered across the floors.
Each step sent dust swirling into the air as they walked across broken glass, stray pieces of metal, and rusted, forgotten tools. Even in the shadows, Cole noticed the muted tones: the gray of concrete, the brown of aged wood, and the reddish-brown of rust. A faint, acrid smell of oxidizing iron and steel lingered in the air, a metallic scent of decay. Beneath the stronger odors, there was an almost minty scent that Cole couldn’t identify, but it made him want to scrub his nostrils.
They climbed a set of rusted, metal stairs to the upper floor and walked along a creaking catwalk that Cole didn’t entirely trust to hold their weight.
“Is Roland your real name?” Cole asked. “Or was that fake, too?”
The man paused and turned around. “My name is Byrne.”
“Like…burnin hell?” Cole muttered.
“Yes.” The man smiled coldly. “But not spelled that way.” He continued along the catwalk a few more feet, then stopped at a closed door. He motioned for Cole to move forward and opened the door, guiding him inside.
“Son.” The Mangler stood behind a worn wooden desk that had lost its varnish. The office was bleak, with faded and crackedleather furniture. The man held a bottle of scotch in his right hand. “You came.” As he set up three tumblers, he poured scotch into each one. “I’m glad.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Cole mumbled. As before that night, he immediately felt like a scared kid again in his dad’s presence.
